Picture Perfect
by Faithful Wheezy
Summary: This story is a challenge set by Omnicat. The Fat Lady and Sir Cadogan highly dislike each other. So when their portraits are set next to each other, they have to learn how to get along. Complete.
1. Knightmares

AN: Hi there! This story, Picture Perfect, is a challenge set by Omnicat; a story about the Fat Lady and Sir Cadogan. I leave you with your imaginations to figure out how the story will progress! And so, as you know, I own no characters or anything except perhaps the plot, as everything belongs to J. K. Rowling. So you know the drill, on we go!

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_Knightmares_

The Fat Lady paced restlessly around in her portrait. It was evening; her friend Violet was sleeping and the Fat Lady knew from experience that Violet should never be awakened—the monks were off busy with a congregation of some sort, and the wolves? Let's not even get started.

The only other painting she really knew would be awake at this time was Sir Cadogan.

Thinking about the portly knight brought a smile, unbidden, to her pastel medium face. But as quickly as it came, it left. She remembered, all those years ago, that when Sirius Black had slashed her painting (he had apologized recently), he, Sir Cadogan had filled in her place. Sweet as that was, he had given her special little Gryffindors grief. Why, he had changed passwords so often in an hour, hardly anybody had gotten in.

Also, during the few times she had visited him in the evenings, he had displayed such rude behavior, claiming that it was 'his knightly duty'. She had responded rudely by saying something along the lines of, 'bring your knightly duties elsewhere', and he had answered by saying that it was _his_ portrait anyway, and to leave bringing her overly large derriere out of his abode and back into her Obesity House. She had left in a huff, whirling her ruffles around, taking care to hit him and his fat pony squarely on the face with her drawers.

"It looks like you're not asleep, are you, Fat Lady?" asked a kind voice.

The Fat Lady turned around and stared out of her portrait. "Oh! It's you, Professor Dumbledore, sir. I was just—thinking."

Albus Dumbledore himself stepped out of the shadows, revealing his long sleeping gown decked with a purple flower border. In his hand, he carried a candle lamp, the wax slowly dripping down the candle's stick. "It is odd, how most think better at night than they do in the morning." He chuckled. "Our students are a living example of that."

The Fat Lady nodded, about to offer him some tea, but remembering that she was a portrait and could not do such thing for him. To cover up the awkward silence, she looked down at the Headmaster's feet. "Professor, aren't your feet cold?" For indeed, his feet were bare.

"They could be, and they couldn't be," said he airily, wiggling his toes as an afterthought. "And one… can never have too many socks."

The Fat Lady raised an eyebrow, but hastily put it down. "That's true, sir."

Professor Dumbledore surveyed the Fat Lady with his piercing stare, and waited a while before responding, "You are troubled."

The Fat Lady tried to laugh, and promptly gave up after producing a half-hearted bray. "I'm not troubled, sir. Is this why you came here?"

Dumbledore shook his head serenely, allowing himself a smile. "Oh, not at all. I came up here to find out where Mrs. Norris went. Mr. Filch happened to be sick today; I believe he is in the Hospital Wing catching up with Madame Pomfrey."

The Fat Lady chuckled. "So," she heard Dumbledore say, "What were you thinking about? Enlighten me as I search for that mangy cat."

"Oh, I was just—" The Fat Lady paused, wondering whether or not she should tell Dumbledore the truth. "I was, er, just thinking about the, er, night."

"Night," said Dumbledore, and he poked his crooked nose around the nooks and crannies of the corridor.

"That's right," said the Fat Lady, tinges of pink appearing in her cheeks and double chin. "The, er, kni—night."

Dumbledore pulled back from the corner he was so thoroughly searching, bringing with him Mrs. Norris, who squirmed and clawed in his arms, unknowing who her captor was. Upon seeing that she was with Dumbledore, however, her yowls turned into mews, and Dumbledore nodded at the Fat Lady once. "Yes, I see what you mean. I'll be seeing you, Fat Lady."

"What? Wait! What do you—"

Dumbledore turned around, a twinkle in his eyes. "Yes, what _do_ I mean?" The Fat Lady simply gaped at him as he turned around, his gown bedecked with flowers floating round his bare ankles. "Good night," he called over his shoulder.

--

"_Enchantsmentus Spectacularis._" The Fat Lady stirred, her eyes fluttering, but still keeping resolutely closed. "_Enchantsmentus Spectacularis!_" The Fat Lady groaned and turned around. "_ENCHANTSMENTUS SPECTACULARIS!_" The Fat Lady would have kept sleeping right through the password, if not for a swift kick in her chubby shins.

"Oi, fat maiden! Wake up, ye have a student in distress!" Then, she was rewarded with another sharp kick in the ankles.

The Fat Lady groaned and sat up. "Password?" she asked to a disgruntled Ron and Hermione, who were looking mightily impatient at her undignified statement.

"We told you already," snapped Ron, "_Enchantsmentus Spectacularis_."

"Yes, yes, you don't have to be so rude about it," yawned the Fat Lady, allowing the two students entrance into the Common Room. "Oh, and—" she added, "Young Weasley? You have to stop taking Ms. Granger out for late night strolls—it's a good thing for you Filch was sick!"

Ron yelled something back at her, and she chuckled, swinging her portrait closed.

Her merriment was short lived as she noticed who was standing beside her. "Cadogan," she muttered, scrutinizing the rather short knight, who was attempting to tug his overly large sword out of the charcoal-oil medium rug he had embedded it into.

Upon hearing her voice, Sir Cadogan snapped his head up. "_Sir_ Cadogan to ye, my fat maiden in distress," he said testily.

"What are you doing here, Cadogan?" the Fat Lady snapped. "You're invading my _abode_."

"Well, since ye wouldn't get thy fat arse up and let thy—how did ye phrase it?—special little Gryffindors in, I decided to drop by and wake ye up."

"Thanks and no thanks for the help," the Fat Lady replied, annoyed, yet amused at the same time.

"Oh, I know ye are thankful," said Sir Cadogan, managing to pull his sword out of the rug, yet promptly falling down on the Fat Lady's lap.

There was an awkward silence, which was soon broken by Sir Cadogan's stutters and attempts to get off of the Fat Lady.

After a minute of this, the Fat Lady rolled her eyes and simply pushed him off, right into the next paintings. "You were right, Cadogan!" she yelled after him, watching him tumble right into a painting of a herd of cankerous old goats. "I was thankful that my artist gave me such strong arms!"

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AN: So, what did you think about the first chapter? Yay or nay? I'll be putting up an update very soon! I'll see you when I see you, da.


	2. An Unceremonious Prediction

AN: I told you I would update pretty soon. Anyway, I hope you like this installment. One or two more chapters should wrap it all up, I suppose. Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read. On we go!

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_An Unceremonious Prediction_

"_What_, Professor McGonagall?" asked the Fat Lady in disbelief.

"You heard me, Fat Lady," said the strict professor, "it can't be helped. Sir Cadogan's portrait must be moved next to yours."

"But—" The Fat Lady struggled to ask, "but… why next to my portrait? There's barely enough room—"

Professor McGonagall looked plaintively at the medium-sized place right next to her portrait. "I happen to see a space that can accommodate Sir Cadogan," she said briskly. "Honestly, Fat Lady, I don't see why you don't want him here. He's quite charming; you just have to get to know him a little better."

"I think I know him well enough, Professor!" huffed the Fat Lady, adjusting her drawers, "is this why you're putting his portrait next to me?"

"Yeh—no," McGonagall replied. "He's a nuisance to the other portraits in his area, and we know for a good fact that you and Sir Cadogan see a lot of each other."

The Fat Lady shook her immense head. "Hardly, Professor. We barely exchange kind words."

Professor McGonagall tutted and shook her head. "It can't be helped, Fat Lady. This afternoon, Sir Cadogan and his portrait will take their place right here."

"But—"

"_It can't be helped._ In this case, I don't make the rules. Right now, I'm following them."

"Who—"

But before the Fat Lady could finish her question, Professor McGonagall had already left.

--

"What did you say?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"'Tis true. This very afternoon, I will take my place alongside the Fat Maiden." Sir Cadogan sat mournfully beside his fat pony, whose tail, every time it swung around, hit him in the nose.

"The Fat Lady?" asked Ron, snickering. "If I didn't know any better, I would swear you two hated each other!"

Sir Cadogan sneezed and stood up. "Yes, and 'tis all the better!" he said grinning.

"Er," said Harry intelligently, "If you hate the Fat Lady that much, why are you happy to get your portraits moved together?"

"Simple, really, ye knave," said the knight with an air of egoism, "once I am near the Fat Maiden's portrait, I can harass her even more!"

Ron managed to transform his guffaw into a hefty sneeze, while Harry struggled to conceal his own grin. "That, er, isn't a very knightly thing to do, Sir Cadogan."

Sir Cadogan threw his arms up in annoyance and bellowed, "I knew ye would be on _her_ side, you yellow-bellied mongrel, go on, but ye wait. 'Twill be a real job when I get moved and yer not on my side!"

Harry rolled his eyes and dug his elbow into Ron's side. "Come on, Ron," he muttered. "We have to deliver this to Trelawney…"

However, it didn't stop them. As before, Sir Cadogan pursued them by running into neighboring portraits (the occupants rolling their eyes in annoyance, even though they were used to it by now) yelling, "Ye'll be sorry, lads! Take my side, the Fat Maiden won't stand a chance!"

Harry and Ron simply ignored him, and walked down the hall where the portrait of the Mighty Werewolf Wendelin stood, listening to Sir Cadogan's yells of fury as he ran away from the half-human.

"Every time we pass by Sir Cadogan, all he ever talks about is the Fat Lady," said Ron, shaking his head wearily.

"No kidding," Harry replied, reaching the trapdoor that signaled Trelawney's classroom. At once, the silvery ladder fell to the floor at Harry and Ron's feet. "Come on, the faster we do this, we can go down to the Quidditch Pitch."

Ron nodded. "I just don't see why you had to drag me along," he complained. "I could've just—"

Harry rolled his eyes again and pushed Ron towards the ladder. "Hurry up," he hissed, "we don't really have all day." Ron grumbled, but reluctantly started climbing up the rungs.

--

"Professor Trelawney?" Harry whispered. "Professor?"

Ron stood off to the right, not liking the unceremonious reunion of him and the stuffy classroom. "Harry—?"

Harry waved him off with an impatient flick of the hand. "Not now, Ron," he said, his voice slightly hoarse, "help me look for Trelawney!"

"But—but Harry!"

"Not _now!_" said Harry, slightly annoyed. "I don't like it in here anymore than you do—"

"_Harry!_"

"_What?_"

Ron responded with a small whimper as he pointed to a shawled figure lying sprawled on the ground. "Is that—?"

Harry shook his head. "She had too much sherry, I reckon." Harry strode over and put his hand on her shoulder. Fortunately for him, Harry's many years as a Seeker improved his already good reflexes greatly, as Trelawney's head snapped up, her eyes slightly unfocused.

"_Two images unite,_" she rasped.

"Er… what?" asked Ron confusedly.

"Shush!" Harry said quickly. "This is what happened back in Third Year—she's predicting the future!"

"Yeah, right," said Ron, kicking a nearby tasseled cushion. "A load of—"

"_A hatred overlooked, as their destiny is told,_" Trelawney hissed out. "_An unusual attraction, covered up with unnecessary spite—_"

"Sounds familiar," said Harry with a grin, looking over at Ron.

Flashes of bushy brown hair flashed through Ron's mind. "Shut up," he mumbled, turning maroon.

"_Unknowingly to anyone, except perhaps one other, the two fondle soft spots for each other, as they are neither human nor beast; this afternoon, an event shall happen, that will ignite the dynamite of attraction in the hearts of the victims, and shall thus unite, bringing surprise to all who know them, as it is unlikely of the two._"

At the last word, Trelawney executed an overly dramatic sigh and slumped back onto the ground. Obviously, her face meeting an uncarpeted floor woke her up, and stood up with a start.

"Oh, hi, er, Professor Trelawney," said Harry nervously, holding the parchment out to her.

"So sorry, dear boy, dozed off," she said with a slight hiccup, shifting a bottle from her prominent hand to her other, as she took the letter from him.

"Right, see you later, Professor!" said Ron hastily, already standing at the trapdoor entrance. Professor Trelawney waved them off with another hiccup.

At the bottom, Harry was nearly hit on the head by a sherry bottle, and he swore he could hear someone at the top say, "Damn sherry bottle."

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AN: So, what do you think? I'm busily typing up the next chapter, this story is a lot of fun to write. I hope I can count on reviews? Keep your eyes on Arithmancy, and I'll see you when I see you, da. 


	3. Knightly Duties

AN: Here I am again, lovelies, with yet another installment for you to read. I hope you find it to your taste. So on we go!

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_Knightly Duties_

The Fat Lady watched helplessly from her portrait as she watched Filch grumpily hang Sir Cadogan's portrait right next to hers. Nobody had asked her permission to see if they could hang up his portrait next to her. It was outrageous! It was a scandal! It was—

"Yer turning quite red in the face, my fat maiden," said a sly voice from behind her.

The Fat Lady turned around in alarm. Oh no. Not know. It was barely ten seconds ago that they had just hung his portrait up. Why did he have to come annoy her now?

"I believe your eyes are turning against you, then, Cadogan," she snapped.

Sir Cadogan swung his visor up. "And 'tis no wonder why! The very sight of ye could destroy anyone's eyes."

_I've never seen him with his visor up. He looks—_ "Rude," she sniffed. _I suppose I should just ignore him. Maybe he'll go away._

However, Sir Cadogan did quite the opposite. "How now, am I having hallucinations? For once, the fat maiden's ignoring me! Heavens above!"

"I could ignore you all century if you want me to," the Fat Lady retorted. "It's your own fault, coming to my portrait this way. Why can't you stay in your own landscape, where _you_ belong?"

"Alas, 'tis no fun without a fat maiden to harass."

"Impertinent."

"Bossy Bulges."

"Metal Face."

"Double Chin."

"Knight Fall."

"Chubby Cheeks."

"Horrible."

"I see ye don't have a good comeback for me, eh?"

"The same goes to you, Cadogan."

The two glared daggers at each other. Finally, Sir Cadogan regained his composure and dusted his mail vest off. "I call it a draw, fat maiden. But we shall see each other again, no doubt about that."

And with that, Sir Cadogan left her portrait to meet his other new neighbors.

All the while, the Fat Lady realized that her heart was beating rather fast. Seating her large rear end on a tasseled cushion, she realized that she actually liked fighting with Sir Cadogan. It wasn't just the quick-thinking, the smart-mouthing, and the clear composure that had to be used in every fight against the portly knight—she didn't know for certain what it was—but it was pleasant.

"Are you done daydreaming yet?" asked a cheeky voice.

The Fat Lady looked left, right, up and down, and finally resting her eyes on a small first year girl with long pigtails riding down her back.

"Oh, er, yes, sorry—password?" The Fat Lady coughed.

"_Enchantsmentus Spectacularis,_" the girl stated clearly.

The Fat Lady nodded, impressed. "Correct," she said. The other first year Gryffindors she had seen earlier in the week had a lot of trouble pronouncing the password, and she seriously considered changing the password unless a first year could pronounce it.

Changing passwords. The Fat Lady despised doing it—and it was only two months into the new school year! It reminded her horribly of Sir Cadogan and his insane passwords that changed every other hour. She took a peek into his portrait—which was empty, except for his fat, dapple-grey pony, who was grazing lazily in the meadow.

The Fat Lady glanced at her Inventory—two large chocolate bars, which her painter had so generously painted for her—a bottle of gin from her best friend Violet, who had a painting downstairs—a peppermint stick from Father Christmas, a new painting who was down the hall—and a sweet dandelion bar from a flock of geese who had a painting on the floor above.

She looked over at the pony, who was nudging stale weeds pitifully. She looked down at the dandelion bar. Ponies ate dandelions, didn't they? And Cadogan wasn't anywhere nearby… and she had nothing against his pony…

So the Fat Lady did something she never thought she'd do. She crept into Sir Cadogan's portrait. "Pony? The Fat Lady has something for you…"

The dapple-grey pony stared mournfully at the Fat Lady, who was approaching him slowly with a sweet smelling _something_ in her hand. The pony neighed and raised his head up higher, allowing the lady to come closer.

Finally, she reached him, and he lowered his nose to the treat in her hand. _Dandelion!_ Sir Cadogan never did things like this for him…

"Oi! Fat maiden! What're ye doing with my pony?"

The Fat Lady looked up, almost getting whiplash. _Oh no. Perfect timing, Fat Lady. _"I'm being _affectionate_ with it, something you never are!"

Sir Cadogan flicked his visor up casually, exposing his slightly handsome face, causing the Fat Lady to shudder pleasantly on the inside.

"Now, really, fat maiden, why art thou here?"

_Curse his cute Olde English. _"Your pony looked hungry, so I decided to feed it."

_Curse her sweet nature and soft spot for animals._ "What do ye mean? There's a whole field of—"

"—stale weeds, Cadogan. Honestly, you had better get a bucket of water from the Portrait of the Mermaid down by the bathrooms and water this dump."

Two pink spots appeared on Sir Cadogan's cheeks. "'Tis just fine like this. My pony prefers it this way."

The Fat Lady looked down at the pony, who was devouring the bar hungrily like a lion eating a steak. "Oh, I can see that."

All of a sudden, Sir Cadogan's stomach grumbled. The pink spots on his cheeks became darker. _Perfect timing, Ca-dope-gan._ "Er…"

However, instead of looking large and angry like Sir Cadogan thought she would look like, the Fat Lady looked at him with a softened expression. "You're hungry?" she asked, more kindly than she meant.

Sir Cadogan shrugged and toed the grass with his metal shoe. The Fat Lady nodded. "I have a bit I can share with you." She said quietly, disappearing into her own portrait.

Mere seconds later, she set a basket of sweets down on the field at Sir Cadogan's feet. He was about to chuckle and mention something about her only being fast when there was food around, but promptly bit his tongue. This was one of the pitiful few times when the Fat Lady was nice to him—he decided to make the most of it, and, hell, be nice back.

"Looks grand," he complimented.

The Fat Lady nodded. "I didn't make any of this myself, though," she said apologetically.

The portly knight shrugged. "As long as it was given to me by you, and better yet, if it tastes well, 'tis all a wonderful gift."

"Knightly duty, eh?"

"Indeed, fat maiden!"

And for once, the two sat down together as civilized people, not noticing the other portraits watching on in interest.

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AN: What do you think? This particular chapter wasn't exactly the best, I know. But then... one more chapter to go! I'll see you when I see you, da.


	4. That's Sir Cadogan to Ye

AN: I'm sobbing. Picture Perfect is finally done! Well, it wasn't that long, anyway, but I did have loads of fun writing it. Thank you very much to those people who read and reviewed this! But now, I think I'll shut up and save my speech for later. On we go!

* * *

_That's _Sir_ Cadogan to Ye_

The Fat Lady was silent. She wasn't quite that hungry, so she sat on the stale weed meadow and watched the knight eat a cupcake painted from charcoal and tube paint.

"Why are you so mean to me anyway?" she asked curiously.

The portly knight interrupted his feast and looked at the Fat Lady, her eyes wide and innocent. Her cheeks were flushed and the top button of her festive blouse was unbuttoned. After a while, he realized that he was staring. "Er, excuse me. What did ye say?"

"I asked why you were so mean to me." The Fat Lady said patiently.

Sir Cadogan ate the rest of his cupcake in a pensive silence. After a while he shrugged. "I don't know," he said simply. "I reckon 'tis because 'tis so fun to tease ye."

"But why me?" the Fat Lady persisted.

"Ah—" Sir Cadogan was lost for words. Honestly, he didn't know why he chose her anyway.

"It's because he fancies you!" hooted the portrait of Gunilda the Gossiper, right across the wall. Her large, hulking cronies behind her stated their agreement.

At once, every single portrait in the corridor seemed to be buzzing about the Fat Lady and Sir Cadogan.

"I do not _fancy_ her," yelled Sir Cadogan defensively. "'Tis just—'tis just—'tis just because she art fat, 'tis all. 'Tis always fun to have a go at fat maidens, and there art none anywhere nearest except her!"

At once, the corridor became deathly silent. Even Gunilda did not have anything to say to this, and the Fat Lady just sat there, her mouth slightly open.

When the portly knight finally felt it was safe to sit back down and continue eating, he noticed the Fat Lady's face and noticed the hurt in her eyes.

"Listen, fat maiden—"

"It's not my fault my artist painted me this way."

"Yes, I know that—"

"Why do you have to have a go at me every now and then?"

"I don't have to—"

"_Yes you do!_ I was trying to be nice to you; I tried to stop fighting with you!"

"Let me—"

"Sometimes I don't know why I try to make peace with you. I know why you fight! There are two possible reasons: One, it's like you said earlier, I'm fat and—" here, she lowered her voice to a gruff snarl, imitating the knight—"'tis always fun to have a go at the fat maidens!' or, two, it could be because you're a stupid knight who can't fight in a battle to save his life, and you do this just to live the glory days you never had!"

Here, Gunilda the Gossiper started to insert an ad lib here, but a monk who had come to visit the portly knight from the North Tower admonished her severely and gestured to her cronies to keep silent.

"There shouldn't be any fights, we're paintings—"

"…And yet here we are."

And with a sob, the Fat Lady fled from the painting, disappearing once she turned at the portrait of the Black Forests of Germany.

"Excuse me," said a small voice from the floor. Sir Cadogan looked down, hastily wiping away sweat that was in his eyes. "Er, where's the Fat Lady? I need to get in the Common Room."

"Er, I'm filling in for her, lass!" Sir Cadogan said, trying his best to evict the sound of tears from his voice. "Password?"

"Echans—no, Estchanthsmemfus Spikactaleria. I think." The small first year girl finished uncomfortably.

Sir Cadogan, still lost in the reliving of the previous fight, simply nodded and said, "Ye are correct." Then crossed into the Fat Lady's portrait and swung it open with difficulty.

"Thanks," said the small girl, and the knight shrugged and let the portrait slam shut, pushing the small girl into the Common Room.

--

"He said that?" Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, asked in disbelief.

The Fat Lady nodded sadly. "And I've tried to be nice. Just when I thought everything was calm between us, stupid Gunilda yelled something, Sir Cadogan yelled that I was fat, the whole corridor went quiet, they all stared at _me_—and… honestly, Vi, I couldn't help being fat this way; my artist _made_ me fat!"

Violet patted the Fat Lady's arm sympathetically. "I understand how you feel. My artist was originally going to paint be large as well, but just as he was about to dab on the extra skin, he decided not to and left me this way."

Obviously, it was not the right thing to say at the moment, because the Fat Lady wailed and sobbed into Violet's shoulder.

"What did Gunilda say?"

"She said… she told Cadogan that he fancied me."

"And so?"

"Well he doesn't, that's what! And—"

"You want him to."

"No I don't!"

"Then why are you so head over heels over being called 'fat' by Sir Cadogan anyway?" asked Violet. "I call you Fat Lady all the time. In fact, it's even your name!"

"I dunno, but—"

"You got hurt by the one person you cared about most." Violet stated, nodding wisely.

"What are you talking about?" the Fat Lady demanded, her cheeks coloring up of their own accord.

"Admit it, Fat Lady," Violet said, throwing a consoling arm 'round the Fat Lady's large shoulders, "you like everything about him, no matter how rude he acts toward you."

"No I don't…" the Fat Lady protested.

Violet immediately removed her arm from the Fat Lady's shoulder, wrinkling her newly powdered nose. "You remind me of that Granger girl. And that Weasley boy. I ask you, those two—" Violet coughed. "Good shot getting me to change the subject, Fat Lady," she said. "But not sly enough."

"What—?"

"The point is, Fat Lady, you can't keep evading him. You love him and you know it."

"But Vi, love is such a strong word," the Fat Lady protested.

"And that's why I'm using it," said Violet, winking. "How long have you liked him?"

"I don't know. A really long time, I guess," the Fat Lady admitted. "It's just—he was so rude, but oddly charming. It was—"

"It was his Olde English, wasn't it?" said Violet sympathetically. The Fat Lady shrugged. "Yes… I fell in love myself with a painting of a man in green who called himself one of the 'Merry Men' or something of that sort. But he broke my heart by—there you go again, Fat Lady! Stop making me change the subject!"

The Fat lady merely rolled her eyes.

"Listen, Fat Lady. It doesn't matter how long you've liked him or how he thinks of you." Violet smiled. "Tell him how you feel. Don't be like Weasley and Granger. It took them a bloody seven years, but they managed it. Jump in and do it."

--

"I can't believe I did what I said and didn't say what I meant to say and did what I didn't mean to say, but I did." Sir Cadogan said mournfully to his pony. The pony merely stared at his owner with doleful eyes. "How now, I've got myself into quite a fix." At this, the knight's pony reared and nodded its head, as though it understood what he was saying. "The fat maiden was trying to be nice." The pony neighed. "I must say, the maiden is a quick thinker and good at the comebacks. Against all of the foes I've defeated, she could probably vanquish them all." The pony seemed to shake its head. "Ah, I see what ye mean. She was not a foe was she?" The pony reared and promptly nosed a few stale weeds. "Yes, 'tis sweet of her to give ye some food, it 'twas. I do wonder why I am so mean to her. She's—"

The pony neighed, as though egging him on.

Sir Cadogan flung his visor up in annoyance. "If I didn't know any better, I'd still think you fancied her," called Gunilda from across the wall.

"Oi! I wasn't talking to you!" the knight yelled back, brandishing his overly large sword in Gunilda's general direction, but falling down.

Gunilda and her cronies roared with laughter, however thankfully, Sir Cadogan's other neighbors were nicer, and simply rolled their eyes. With his large sword lying flat on his back, and Sir Cadogan lying sprawled on the weedy meadow, the poor knight couldn't move a muscle. "Oi, my comrades? Would thoust lay a helping hand on a poor soul?" However, at this, even his nicest neighbors decided it was a better time than any to play deaf and simply ignored him.

"Are you okay?" asked a voice in his ear. In alarm, Sir Cadogan almost cricked his neck craning it to see who it was.

"Oh. Fat maiden. Why art thou helping me when I so unjustly hurt thy feelings?"

The Fat Lady shrugged and effortlessly picked the sword up off his back with one hand. "It was unjust of me to just run away like that. So I'm fat. My painter made me this way. My name is the Fat Lady." She shrugged. "If it's just my name, I don't know why I made a big scene of it."

She helped Sir Cadogan up, and she could have sworn she heard the monk whisper, "Hush! If you make fun of them now, they'll never be together, and he'll drive me and the congregation up the wall by muttering darkly about how they never got together!" and one of Gunilda's cronies hissing back, "Well, they need to get on with it—we don't have all day."

"Fat maiden?" called Sir Cadogan hesitantly, as the Fat Lady turned to go back to her own portrait, "I'm, er… I'm really sorry about calling ye fat."

"It's fine, Cadogan. As I said; even my name is the _Fat_ Lady. I'm peachy with it." And with that, she turned to return once again to her portrait, but heard Sir Cadogan yell out, "Wait!"

"Yes?"

The knight shifted his visor down, then consciously pushed it back up. "I, er, know why I picked you to fight with."

"Why's that?" the Fat Lady asked curiously. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Violet sharing a portrait with one of Sir Cadogan's more friendly neighbors. Noticing the Fat Lady looking, she waved cheerily and gave a thumbs-up.

"I, er…"

The Fat Lady looked at him expectantly.

"I…"

It seemed as though one of Gunilda's cronies could not contain themselves, and the majority of them yelled out, "Aw, get it the hell over with!" Followed by the monk severely showing them his disapproval.

Sir Cadogan put his visor down and turned away. "I love you."

After a silent moment, Sir Cadogan turned his head only to see the Fat Lady looking back at him, a confused look in her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't be pleased."

The Fat Lady shook her head. "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that."

Sir Cadogan's fat dapple-grey pony reared and neighed happily, thinking about more treats coming his way.

Violet smiled and clapped, shaking her head, happy that her best friend wouldn't be so stubborn at their three o' clock P.M. tea sessions whenever she brought up the topic of knights in shining armor and whether Sir Cadogan would be the one for her, muttering that the two were 'picture perfect'.

The Fat Lady sighed happily as her knight swept her into his arms, relieved that she finally let him know how she felt, as well as the assurance of no more major fights.

Sir Cadogan grinned like a madman, knowing that he had become the bravest knight in the castle, because he had let the Fat Lady know that he loved her.

When the too finally stopped hugging, the Fat Lady pulled back and whispered, "I love you, Cadogan."

Sir Cadogan smiled and pushed up his visor, leaning in to kiss her. But not before their lips met, he said, "That's _Sir_ Cadogan to ye."

**Ye Olde End.**

* * *

AN: So, what do you think? Long, I know, and it probably wasn't my best work. Now it's up to you readers! Should I do a prologue, or leave it where it is? Whatever you choose, thank you very much for reading. And now, don't forget to read Arithmancy and my other oneshots that aren't getting much reviews hint. So now, as I always say, see you when I see you, da!


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